Awakening
by LaLaGirl33
Summary: Tim is in prison, and has a moment of clarity. Tim/Tyra. Pre Season 5, the final season.


**"Awakening"**

**Characters:** Tim and Tyra

**Setting:** End of season 4. Tim's in prison. He's taken the fall for he and Billy's chop shop operation out of Riggin's Rigs.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. This is just for fun. These characters are the property of their respective creators and financial backers (NBC Universal, Jason Katims, Peter Berg, etc.

**A/N:** I first posted this to my LiveJournal site on Nov. 22, 2010 before I had seen Season 5, the final season. I hope that you enjoy this, and please leave me a comment :-)

* * *

><p>Nothing could have prepared him for this - for being locked up. Put away. Imprisoned. Not the numerous scenes in prison movies. Not the look of fear in his brother's eyes or the expected condemnation and scorn in others. Not the millions of seconds when he'd imagined what this was going to be like.<p>

Nothing could have prepared him for when they took his clothes, his pride, his sense of self; in exchange for an orange jumpsuit with a string of numbers that covered his rapidly beating heart and a pair of uncomfortable shoes. They'd told him he couldn't wear his State ring. It might cut someone if he got into a fist fight. They took his boots too. They'd stripped him naked.

Nothing could have prepared him for the smell, the stink of men filled with rage, guilt, insanity, fear, sadness, loneliness…he never knew that loneliness had a smell. But it did. And, damn, did it ever stink the place up. He reeked of it.

His cell had a narrow steel cot with a too-thin mattress. No mirror. No sharp objects. There was a small shelf on the wall to hold a few personal belongings. There was no window. Not even a light switch. Even the lights were beyond his control. He was thankful to have a sink that didn't drip and a toilet that flushed. Tim's favorite part of the day was when they got two hours in the exercise yard where he lifted weights. He was probably in the best shape of his life.

He'd been here for just over five months. Billy had come the first visitor's day, and promised to come again. But he'd only been back a few times. Tim figured he couldn't stomach that Tim was in here while he was still on the outside, trying to pretend his life was normal. He'd brought him some magazines, and a couple of books. He'd apologized again and again and again until Tim silenced him with one look. Billy had bit his lip and looked like he was fighting the urge to cry. Tim had thought maybe, maybe he'd have been holding back tears and biting his lip too, but he'd cried them all out a long time ago. He'd seen Billy two other times since then.

So he was pretty surprised when he was just told that he had a visitor. He couldn't imagine who it would be. Maybe it was Billy, his guilt had finally got the best of him. Tim frowned and told himself he could get through it. He asked the guard who it was, but the guard just sneered and told him to hurry the hell up.

He blinked a little when he entered the room where visitation took place, it was so bright. It basically looked like a big cafeteria, six foot formica tables with orange plastic chairs on either side under a blazing light. The visitors had to go through a metal detector, but even still the place was lit up to make sure nothing was slipped to an inmate in the dark.

Tim's eyes scanned the room, and his eyes were instantly drawn to a man he hadn't expected to see here. But there was no doubt in his mind this particular visitor was here to see him. He waited his turn in line, once it was his turn he nodded toward Coach Taylor; and the guard led him over.

Coach had his game face on, the same face Tim had seen a hundred times at practice or at a game. He talked about how he'd talked to Tim's lawyer and if Tim would just give the D.A. some more information they could get his sentence reduced. Tim simply told Coach he couldn't say what he didn't know. The cars were dropped off, they stripped them, and someone came and picked up the parts the next morning. It was never the same guy twice. He couldn't have picked one of them out of a lineup if he tried.

Coach grimaced and ran his hand through his hair, and finally said okay then, and told Tim to keep his chin up and watch his back. His parting words had raised the hairs on his arm. "You made any friends in here yet?" Tim didn't respond. "Well, you better son, 'cause you're going to need at least one."

The following week, Tim was surprised to be summoned for Visitor's hours again. He didn't think he'd see Coach again so soon. He thought at least he'd be able to tell Coach about the one friend he had in here, make him feel a little better. Willy was in for drugs. Dealing drugs, possession of drugs, using drugs, stealing for drugs. They worked together in the laundry room. For hours and hours each day, Tim washed, folded and bundled the prison laundry. Towels. Sheets. Jumpsuits. Underwear. Socks. Willy was on his right and T-Jack was on his left. Every day but Sunday.

He got to the entrance to the visitor's area, but didn't look around the room until it was his turn. He slowly raised his head and wondered if it wasn't Coach, who he'd have to face this time? Whose eyes would he have to meet and see his old self remembered there?

He overheard a few of the other inmates behind him making dirty comments about some female visitor."Hey! Hey blonde babydoll, you ain't seen nothing till you've seen Big Frank right here. I got something you're going to like!" Before he could stop it, his eyes darted towards the object of the other inmate's lust and he felt his stomach jump to his throat. His mouth went dry, and he couldn't have spoken if he'd wanted to. He looked away from her eyes quickly and nodded in her direction instead. The guard led him over to her.

She stood as he approached, and he carefully maneuvered his way towards her. He told himself this wasn't going to matter, that seeing her here wasn't going to change anything, even as he wished he could turn around and shove his fist down all these scumbag's throats.

When he finally reached her, she started towards him until the guard silenced her with a growl. "This is across the table only, sweetheart. You get luckier on the way out."

He saw Tyra raise her eyebrows in surprise as she slowly took a seat. Tim pulled the chair out across from her and sat down. Only then did he open his eyes and allow himself to look at her, truly look at her.

Her hair was as bright as the sun. She wore it long and straight to just past her shoulders, and it was so clean and shiny it looked fake. She was wearing a simple, navy-blue sundress with spaghetti straps and a skirt that fell just above her knees. Her skin was tanned and perfect: no tattoos, no scars; just perfect, pristine skin kissed by the warmth of hours spent in the hot Texas sun. She looked just like a real-life Barbie. Since being incarcerated, he was always on hyper-alert, and he felt his senses kick up a few extra notches than normal. He saw (without even looking around) a few more guards entered the area than was normally present. They probably expected Tyra's presence to cause a riot.

He forced himself to meet her gaze, and slowly dragged his eyes up to meet hers. He was surprised by what he saw there. He expected fear, pity or contempt. He didn't expect to see what was clearly shining from her eyes like a beacon of light. He saw love. And for the first time in weeks he felt like he was going to cry.

* * *

><p>Tyra didn't know what to expect when she'd walked into the prison. She moved stiffly and carefully as if she was expecting someone to snatch her up and hold a gun to her head at any moment. She wondered for the tenth time if this was a good idea, and the instant it entered her head she snuffed it out with one thought: Tim needs you.<p>

It didn't matter that he'd cheated on her, or that he'd chosen Lyla over her, or that he'd quit college and had landed in prison for running an illegal chop shop; what mattered was that she'd loved him once, loved him more than she thought she _could_ love someone. It mattered, that at one time, they were all that each other had in the world.

She'd thought Mindy was kidding when she'd told her that Tim was in prison when she'd come home from school for a weekend visit. Yeah right, she'd scoffed, what'd he do, get an overnighter for brawling in a bar? Or was it for under tipping and the Landing Strip, she'd joked. She'd felt lightheaded and dizzy when Mindy explained the details. She'd been shocked of course. She was livid that Mindy had kept her in the dark for so long. Billy then nearly bit Mindy's head off, handed her the baby and tore out of the driveway in his Camaro like a bat out of hell. Mindy had rolled her eyes and wouldn't have said another word about it if Tyra hadn't pressed her for information. She found out where he was and managed to pry out of her when visiting hours were. She'd called on the way there and begged to be added to the visitor's list.

When she'd first seen him, she'd wanted to run to him and just hold him, but her legs were like lead pipes, they wouldn't move, and when she finally got her body to obey, the guard had said it wasn't allowed. She sat back down and as she watched him approach she wondered if there was any part of Tim still inside this person coming towards her.

His hair was tied back at his neck and his neck was thicker, in fact, his whole body was thicker; she bet he'd gained twenty pounds and all of it was muscle. Gone was the lean muscled body she remembered and in its place was the harder body of a man. His face too, was slightly fuller, but also sharper, somehow; more defined. She longed for him to look at her so she could see his eyes. See if she'd made a mistake in coming here. Finally, he did. And in that moment, she knew there were no mistakes where he was concerned and she was overcome by such a strong feeling that filled every part of her being. It was a feeling that she couldn't hide from, and didn't want to anyway.

She reminded herself to breathe.

* * *

><p>Tim choked back something that bit at the back of his throat. He'd gotten so good at not caring, not about anything, that he briefly got angry at himself for almost showing his feelings to the outside. He quickly looked away from her eyes, those eyes that made him feel, and he steeled himself to find out what the hell she was doing here.<p>

He hadn't asked it out loud, but he may as well have. She read the question in his face.

"Well dumbass, I'm here to see you. Thought you could use a friend."

_Sassy. That was Tyra all right._

"We were never friends, Tyra."

_Push her away, get her out of here_.

"Bullshit."

_She wasn't going to make this easy on him, was she? Damn it. _

"You shouldn't be here Tyra. You don't belong here."

"Says who? I can come here as long as I don't pack heat. Or try to hug you, apparently," she fired back.

"So what _are_ you doing here Tyra? If you came to see me at my lowest point to punish me for what I did to you, to us…" but he wasn't able to finish before she was interrupting him.

"How shallow do you think I am, Tim? I'm not here to get back at you about what happened between us _years ago_. I'm here because Mindy told me. I hadn't realized...the trial snuck up and passed by-and they never told me anything, Tim. I'm so sorry. And...so... I'm home for the weekend. I- you're family too, you know. Do I need a better reason than that?"

He cleared his throat and considered what she'd said. "I don't get too many visitors." He kicked himself for saying it the minute he saw the look that came into her eyes, so he quickly changed the subject.

"So how is school?"

"Fine. How's prison?" He had to grin at that. Tyra always was a smartass.

"Fine. But the food sucks." She grinned back.

He waited to see if she was going to fill the silence. Hell, she wasn't. He sighed uncomfortably. "I'm a little rough around the edges."

"You always were."

He bit back another grin. She had him there. "Yeah well, things are different now. You probably shouldn't be here."

"So? I want to be here."

"Well maybe_ I_ don't want you to be here." _What I mean is I don't want you to see me like this._

She took a deep breath before she carefully considering her next words. "I know I'm not Lyla," she started and he interrupted her.

"You don't need to bring Lyla into this. She and I were never meant to be. And she never had anything to do with us."

"I didn't bring Lyla into this, _you_ did, when _you_ accused me within five seconds of seeing me, of coming here just to rub your nose in it to even up the score."

He swore under his breath and looked up at the ceiling. Damn, when she was right, she was right. He felt himself scowl, and again brought back his stone face.

"Like I said, I'm not used to having visitors. So I'm having a hard time understanding what it is you're doing here."

"Tim, do I have to spell it out for you? Look. I care about you. There, I said it. The elephant in the room is now on the table. Is that so hard for you to hear? For you to believe?" _That I might actually care for you still, in spite of what you did?_ The unspoken words were there as plain as day.

Tim immediately felt himself bristle and fought back the emotions that her words brought to the surface. "Damn it Tyra. You don't understand. I'm all alone."

Nothing could have surprised him more when she reached out and took his hands in hers, unless it was the fact that he let her, and how quickly his body responded to the touch of her fingers, the warmth of her hands. He found himself touching her back. He slowly rubbed his thumbs over her smooth skin and let himself enjoy the feeling that had started as a tingle in his toes and shot through the rest of his body like electricity. He sighed. When he raised his eyes to look into hers, she broke the silence between them.

"Tim, I'm sorry you haven't gotten any other visitors, and I'm sorry you're all alone. But that doesn't mean that people don't care about you or have stopped caring about you. They're probably scared. Or maybe they can't get off work, or don't understand the process, or aren't sure if you want to see them…"

"None of that mattered to you." He heard his own voice say, gruffly. He hadn't even thought the words, where had they come from?

She smiled sadly and gripped his hands tighter. "Well you've never scared me. And if I wanted to see you I'd ditch school. And if I wasn't sure you wanted to see me, I'd just show up anyway."

He grinned up at her through his eyelashes, "Yeah, you never did have much sense."

She laughed and smiled back at him. And it dawned on him, that for the first time since before all this had happened, the trial, the incarceration, all of it… he was relaxing. It felt good.

"Tim, you've got to do what you can. You've got to appeal, or do something to get out of here! I mean, you don't belong here. Not any more than I do."

Had Coach asked her to come here? "You been talking to Coach Taylor? Or Mrs. Taylor?"

Tyra looked startled at his question. So that wasn't it. "No," but then she looked guilty. "I mean, I should. I need to call Mrs. T up, but I…" she let it trickle off. "Wait, why do you ask?"

"It's nothing. It's just that Coach was here last week, trying to get me to give them more information." He lowered his voice, and leaned closer to her. She instinctively leaned in to meet him across the table. "The trouble is, I just don't know anything. I mean, I know Billy does, but I don't. And Billy can't say anything, because then they'll know he's involved, and I can't let that happen. He's got Mindy, and the baby… there's just no way."

She nodded her head, "But there's got to be a way to get that information out of Billy. Have you just asked him?"

He sighed. He'd thought through it a million different ways. "It doesn't matter. I mean, even if I did get the information, and let's say they bust these guys, it's just going to lead back to Billy."

She bit her lip in consternation. "Well, let me think on it. Two heads are better than one."

"You're the last person I expected to see here, Tyra. I mean, Thanks for coming. It really is good to see you." At her look of skepticism, he continued, "no really. I mean it. I know I'm hard up for visitors, but seriously, I know it probably wasn't easy to come here. And I really appreciate it."

Her smile stayed, but her face became serious. "Yeah, well maybe I have more faith in you than you have in me." She squeezed his hands.

He felt himself snicker, and nod his head in agreement. "You always did, Tyra, you always did. But you gotta be proud of yourself. I mean, did you ever think, you'd be going to college?"

She grinned, eyebrows raised, and shook her head. "No. I always thought I'd end up like my mama, or Mindy. Not that there's anything wrong with getting married young, and having a family, I just wanted more. I wanted out of Dillon. And they just, well they didn't."

"Yeah, I kinda wish I would've given college a better shot." He did regret not giving it a chance.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. It just didn't feel right. But now, I wish I'd tried harder. I mean, it probably doesn't feel right to a lot of people at first. Because it's different, new place, new people…"

She nodded her head.

"It would've been a helluva lot better than here, that's for sure."

They talked more, and by the end of visiting hours, Tim had smiled more than he had in months. She told him all about the baby, some funny stories about college, and caught him up with what was going on with Matt, Smash, Jules, and the local gossip from home. That's one of the things he liked best about Tyra. They always had a good time.

The smiles faded slowly when they realized that their time was up. They both stood, and stared at each other awkwardly across the table. He saw the other inmates and guests embracing each other, and he was overcome with a desperate need that overwhelmed him, and it set him forth with determination.

He circled the table and pulled her into his arms before she could stop him. He closed his eyes and breathed in the clean smell of her hair and the sweet scent of her skin. One hand slid up to cradle her head while the other circled her waist. He felt her shudder and felt her hands slowly circle his neck. He felt her breath on his neck and felt the heat rush through his body. He brought both hands to rest on her hips, and on cue they leaned back to look into each other's eyes. He wanted, wanted with a fierceness that surprised him, to pull her hips to meld with his own, to brush and coax her lips to do the same, but he couldn't bring himself to cross that invisible line. Instead he felt his gaze drawn to hers and his heart sank when he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Aw shit, Tyra, don't do this to me now. I can't see you like this, knowing it's cause of me, God, of all people, Tyra, I can't see you crying over me, after all that's happened, with you, with me, I can't…" he felt the words pouring out of him even as she tightened her arms around his neck and rested her forehead on his. He felt her tears fall onto his cheeks. He moved to wipe the tears from her face and he felt her doing the same to him and that's when he realized that it wasn't her tears on his face, they were his own.

He froze, and in that moment he saw a series of images flash across the backs of his eyes: first he was studying at a library, textbooks strewn about him while he was furiously scribbling into a notebook; and then, he was on a football field running towards the endzone, carrying the ball in for the touchdown; next he was older, standing on the sidelines in a polo with a clipboard in his hand. Another flash and he was standing next to a navy blue minivan, strapping a struggling toddler into a car seat while she looked on with a smile. Another flash, and she was standing in front of the stove, stirring chili as he snuck up behind her to steal a bite, she swats at him and they both are laughing. More images of them follow; he sees them strolling hand in hand on a white sand beach, carrying their shoes while the sun sets in the distance. Next they're sitting side by side in a large auditorium as a teenager in a cap and gown waves at them and holds up a diploma. Lastly, they are lying in bed, he reaches over her shoulder to turn out the light before he pulls her close to fill in the hollows of his own body. Tim felt himself sigh deeply.

His eyes cleared and he was brought back. He felt his chest swell as he looked at her, and his arms tightened around her unconsciously. "Tyra, I…"

She brought a finger up to his lips to silence him. "Shh. We've done enough talking for one day." And then she surprised him again. She kissed him.

And he did the only thing he could do. The only thing he wanted to do. He kissed her back.


End file.
